


Thirteen Hours

by crystallines



Series: Clean Slate [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble, M/M, sort of?? I think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:58:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5600620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallines/pseuds/crystallines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When we win, when all the fires die down, I want you standing by us. I want to share our glory with <i>you</i>." (<a href="http://ethanakamura.tumblr.com/post/136373625556/">x</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirteen Hours

Luke leaves, of course. He _promised_  he would, after all, had made it a point to swear upon the River Styx that he would swallow his fear and do _it._

Ethan shouldn’t be surprised. He shouldn’t be pacing in the empty dorms and clawing at his hair, heart thumping with a speed that rivals that of a cheetah’s, but the fact of it, the fact of it _happening_ , hurts him with the force of a physical blow. Or– _not_  a physical blow, because–because it hurts like a fucking _truck_ rammed into his chest. 

Because Luke is going to the River Styx.

Luke is going to _host Kronos_.

And Ethan doesn’t know how the _hell_  Luke intends to sneak into the Underworld–he claims this so-calledmission is _classified_ , and so he didn’t confide the specifics in  _anyone_ , not even _Ethan_ –but he’s got a very, very bad feeling about… _this_. This _scheme_. 

It almost sounds like _possession_. A demon possessing a human body–it’s like something from the badly-written script of a horror movie. 

The idea of _Kronos possessing Luke_ –

It doesn’t sit well with Ethan. 

It just _doesn’t_.

* * *

Luke is away for twelve hours. 

 _Twelve_.

And Ethan isn’t counting. Except–well, he _is_ , just…not like _that_.

By the thirteenth hour, some small part of him begins to shed the slightest trace of doubt. The Underworld is overflowing with an insurmountable bulk of monstrosities. Dipping even a _toe_  in the River Styx is… _unadvisable_ , to say the very least.

And–anything could have happened, really. _Anything_. 

He’s sitting alone in the stands of the arena, gaze surveying its blatant  _emptiness_ , something ugly wound up tight inside his very core, when he sees him. 

 _Luke_. 

He stands up far too quickly for someone who definitely _wasn’t counting_ the hours that slipped past him, definitely _isn’t_  wound up tight with tension or concern or _something_ like that. He tries to speak and finds he can’t. The words stick to the inside of his throat like glue. 

But then– “Hey,” Luke says, and Ethan looks at him blankly.

“You came back,” Ethan blurts, and his voice carries across the length of the arena like a declaration.

A perfect copy of a smile crosses Luke’s features; he doesn’t move towards Ethan, but he doesn’t move _away_ from him, either. “Did I?” 

And Ethan studies him. Looks at him– _really_ looks at him–and, at first glance, everything is…normal. Too normal. _Suspiciously_ normal.

He doesn’t think anyone who just returned from the Underworld should look this healthy, with glowing skin and a cool gaze and bright blue eyes–

 _Not_ blue eyes.

Luke’s eyes _are_ blue, _sort of_ , because there are gold specks reflected in the irises and it’s really _freaking him out_. 

He examines the way Luke holds himself, shoulders down and hands thrust into the depths of his pockets, and it’s a stark contrast from the proud stance he usually adopts. 

It’s still Luke, but it’s… _different_. 

“Actually,” says Ethan, “I don’t know.” 

And silence ensues, settling over the two of them like a blanket of snow, and halfway through the length of it, Ethan’s about to say _something_ , he’s about to demand _answers_ , he really is, but then Luke murmurs, barely audible, “You know someone has to raise Kronos.” 

That’s when it hits Ethan. There’s a reason why Luke sought him out tonight. Of  _course_  there is. 

“And you want me to do it,” he realizes. 

“It’s the only way.”

“And you _want me to do it_ ,” Ethan repeats disbelievingly. “Do you know–? Do you know what you’re _asking_?”

“It’s _the only way_ ,” Luke says with enough heat in his tone to match Ethan’s degree of incredulity. He stands, suddenly, and it’s so unlike him that Ethan can’t help it. He looks at those _eyes_ again; there’s more gold than blue, and– 

“What did Kronos promise you?” he asks. “Peace on earth? Even if he _somehow_  managed it, you wouldn’t be alive to see it. He would _vaporize you_ , from the inside out. And I won’t let him do that.” Ethan raises his chin, meets Luke’s eyes even though he really, _really_  doesn’t want to. “I won’t be your murderer.”

But Luke doesn’t even flinch. “He promised me _victory_ ,” he seethes. “Victory for the Titans, victory for _us_. For the minor gods. For the likes of _your mother_. Don’t you _want_ that? Isn’t that what you signed up for?” 

“It _was_ ,” Ethan admits, “and I _do_  want to win. I want to win as much as you do. But you know what else? When we win, when all the fires die down, I want you standing by us. I want to share our glory with _you_.” 

Luke’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. “You can’t have _everything_ in the world, Ethan. Out of all people, _you_ should know this.”

When Luke cards a hand through his hair in agitation and turns away from him, Ethan doesn’t ignore the faltering of his own pulse. A heavy sigh leaves Luke’s lungs, _defeated_ , and it tears Ethan’s heart into jagged quarters.

When Luke leaves the arena without a backward glance, Ethan lets him.

Because he knows. He _knows_.

Luke hasn’t come back. Not really.

And even if he has to scale every single peak in the fucking Himalayas, Ethan’s determined to find him again.

 _Somewhere_.


End file.
